Simpleness Threatened
by MissingEden
Summary: --Oneshot-- Question: What happens when someone who's more than enough trouble sober shows up at your house horribly drunk? Answer: The exact same thing that happened when he did it last week. And the week before. And four days before that. Sirius/Remus.


**Disclaimer**: This here bottle of Jager on my desk says I _do_ own Harry Potter. Are you going to argue with Mr. Jager? ARE YOU?!

I wouldn't. He's a lawyer, you know.

_(a/n: Okay, this one's for __**Netrixie**__, who wrote me the bestest oneshot EVAR (that's right. I have read every oneshot ever in the entire world and that one is the best), thusly causing me to whip up this thing as a thank you. It's like we're playing ping pong, but the ball is made of slashy inspiration!_

_Ha. Analogies are fun when they don't make any sense…_

_Yeah, so anyway, this thing is all your fault and you know it._

_P.S._

_I didn't use lyrics this time because Lintilla (my ipod) went a-wandering today and I can't find her, but that doesn't mean it hasn't got a song that goes with it...and if you can still guess what it is, you are some sort of freaky magician.)_

* * *

For reasons beyond his comprehension, there was a motorcycle parked in Remus Lupin's sitting room.

He put his house keys down on a table and sighed. "Sirius," he growled in a low voice, for where that terrifying monstrosity of a vehicle went, that terrifying monstrosity of a man went also, "would you be so kind as to explain to me what in the name of _arse_ you and your motorbike are doing in my flat _again_?"

"Sleeping," came the groggy reply.

He could hardly see the source of the remark for the thick tangle of black hair obscuring most of his head, but he knew without looking that if he did what he'd see was Sirius Black, most likely lying facedown on the carpet in a puddle of his own sick.

It was the sort of thing one learned from experience.

"You—" he began, the harshness in his tone invalidated by the care with which he helped his friend off the floor, "—are a complete pillock."

"You—" Sirius retorted in imitation, "—should've come to the pub with me."

Remus sighed as he guided a stumbling Sirius toward the bathroom in a routine he could've performed in his sleep for the number of times he'd done it. "Sirius, I've told you a thousand times—"

"Know what your problem is, mate?"

"No. But I expect you're going to tell me whether I want to know or not."

"You have less_ fun _than anyone I've ever fucking met."

"Oh yes." Remus agreed solemnly, turning the tap to the most appallingly freezing water possible and attempting to force Sirius's disheveled head under the spray. "Fun."

"Ah! Gerroffme, you wanker! 'S fucking _freezing_!"

"You're not staying here covered in sick," he snapped as Sirius dodged the rushing water. "Hold still, you mangy git…"

"_Mangy_?" Sirius clutched the side of the tub, sliding wetly against the ceramic. "…I happen to be a remarkidley…incredblical…really fucking well-groomed git, thanks," he grumbled unhappily, taking an amazingly long time to string the words together.

"Yes, that's…" Remus began, losing his train of thought slightly as Sirius began to strip with no warning at all. "…obvious. From the vomiting. Erm…"

Sirius looked up from fumbling drunkenly with his shirt buttons to find a curious blush working its way across his friend's face. "Whatsamatter, Rem? Your face…s'all…_red_…"

"T-Towels are on the shelf," Remus sputtered, fighting with some effort the urge to bolt immediately from the room. "I should go…er…thing."

"Rem?" Sirius slurred concernedly, but Remus had already flung himself through the door and slammed it hard behind him

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily, listening to the clumsy stir of the man on the other side of the door and trying to force his heart rate to return to normal.

Merlin, hadn't he had long enough to get over this? Ten-odd years of friendship and he still couldn't see the man with his shirt off without blushing harder than a schoolgirl in a strip bar…

"Mooooony…" a far-too-loud voice slurred at him. Remus winced at the noise. Was he out to wake the whole damn _neighborhood_ up? "MOONY! Ha, I never call you that anymore…s'great little nickname, that…you bein' a werewolf an' all…I AM SO BLOODY CLEVER! MOONY! DID YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID? C'MERE AND TELL ME HOW BRILLIANT I AM!"

Swallowing one last nervous breath and grinding his molars with a new level of annoyance, Remus opened the door a tiny crack. "Are you decent?"

"…'es."

Breathing a miniscule sigh of relief, Remus pushed the door open fully, getting his shoes soaked through instantly by the massive puddle that flooded out to meet him.

"HA!" said Sirius in heavily inebriated triumph, kneeling half in and half out of the bathtub, wearing a soaking wet leather jacket and nothing else. "'S FUNNY COS I _LIIIIIED_! I'M STILL NEKKID!"

"Yes, yes, I can see that!" Remus snapped, shielding his eyes with one hand and clenching the other into a fist in a desperate bid to keep from strangling Sirius with it. "What are you _doing_?"'

"Taking a _bath_."

"With your jacket on?"

"Yeah, well, this water's fucking freezing, innit?"

"Sirius," said Remus through his teeth, his face a flaming scarlet. "_Get out of my bathroom_."

Water sloshed over the sides of the tub as Sirius shifted back into it. "Don't wanna. 'S nice 'n wet in here…"

Still flushing brightly, Remus marched across the flooded tiles and grabbed Sirius's arm. "_Now_," he ordered dangerously. Sirius giggled.

"Merlin, you're cute when you're mad…" he said dreamily. Remus's blush darkened infinitely. "…'S why I always gave you shit as a kid…love the way you look when you're angry…"

"J-Just how much did you have to drink?!" sputtered Remus, jerking his hand away from Sirius's arm.

"Weeeelll," Sirius said contemplatively, staring at the ceiling as though the figures he was trying to do were printed on it, "there's…er…_eight_…" he held up his fingers, lest Remus forget what the number looked like, "…eight pubs between your house and mine…so something like…errrrrrr….no idea. Lots. C'mere."

Before Remus could even ask what he was talking about, Sirius had the collar of his shirt in a locked surprisingly strong grip.

"Let _go_, you drunken idiot, you're getting me wet!"

"Waitwaitwait…first…first you've gotta kiss me."

"You're drunk."

"'Course I am. I'm also bigger than you and I've got you by the neck. Kiss me."

Remus's eyes glued themselves the floor tiles. He'd known the animagus more than long enough to know there was absolutely no getting around him when he was like this.

"You…you're going to regret this in the morning," he tried anyway.

"I'm not even gonna _remember_ this in the morning, Rem." His grip tightened as Remus again tried to pull away. "C'mon, Moony. Please?"

Remus sighed.

He'd had more than a decade to learn to say no to Sirius Black and he still hadn't managed it.

Sirius caught his chin in one hand as Remus scooted forward to peck him chastely on the cheek. "Not like that, idiot…" he murmured, his lips gliding silkily over Remus's, soft at first but increasing in pressure until the werewolf's mouth parted instinctively against them. He flicked his tongue in tentatively and, meeting no resistance, plunged in further as Remus's hands tangled in his hair.

Sirius broke the kiss for no more than a second to slither wetly out of the tub, but gave Remus no opportunity to escape, shoving him back against the tiles to lie on top of him.

"Wh-what are you doing? You said—"

"I lied. Didn't need to, though, did I? You want this."

Remus scowled, pushing fruitlessly with both hands against the dead weight of the other man. "Think so, do you?"

"'M _drunk_, not stupid, Remus. I know when someone's kissing back."

Remus put one hand over his eyes, the other still pushing without much enthusiasm against Sirius's chest.

It was true. Of course it was. He'd never quite mastered that whole lying thing the way James and Sirius had (possibly why it had taken them about eleven seconds to work out the one secret he was supposed to be keeping in those days), and he had no doubt the fact that he'd been imagining this since he was twelve was plainly written on his fervently blushing face. Well, not _exactly_ this—the Sirius of his fantasies had been rather soberer than this one, and usually a good deal drier—but a drunk, soggy Sirius was still a Sirius he wanted more than anything else.

"I…er…um…m-my…clothes are wet, Sirius," he said irrelevantly.

"That," said Sirius devilishly, one hand sliding up under Remus's shirt while the other worked quickly at the zipper on his jeans, "is not going to be a problem, Rem…"

OoOoOo

_Merlin, how many times did we actually do it last night?_ thought Remus, blushing faintly at the memories as he rolled his stiff shoulders for the eighth time in the two minutes since he'd first opened his eyes. _My whole back hurts…_

He sat back against the bed, picking a long black hair off the pillow next to him with a sigh. Well, it was hardly surprising the man would've shoved off after waking up next to a bloody werewolf, he thought, just a loud crash and a volley of colorful swearing indicated that the only place Sirius had shoved off for was the kitchen.

He slid off the bed, padding apprehensively across the cold floor, his heart thudding miserably in his chest. He had no real desire to reconcile the Sirius of last night with the remorseful, violently hung over one most likely making a mess of his kitchen, but he could hardly hide in the bedroom all day…"Best to just break the illusion now, I suppose," he said under his breath.

"Morning, Rem," said Sirius brightly as he entered the kitchen.

Remus closed his mouth, swallowed, and said in a strangled voice, "Is that _tea?_"

"No, I just happen to take my arsenic with milk and sugar."

"Tea," repeated Remus unsteadily. "_Tea_. You're here…making _tea_…in my kitchen."

"What, surprised I know how to work a kettle?"

"What are you _doing_ here?"

"Making tea. In your kitchen. Obviously."

"I mean," said Remus testily, "I don't understand why you came here in the first place."

Sirius shrugged. "James and Lily don't really want me turning up at their place in the middle of the night now that they've got the baby and everything…" His hands tightened around his mug, which he stared into intently the way a normal person might be staring into Remus's eyes at this point. "Well. Not just that. Not that at all, actually. I guess I just wanted to see you."

Remus braced his hand against the table to keep his knees from buckling and told himself sharply that that didn't necessarily mean anything at all.

Sirius stood up, catching Remus's arm before he could speak again. "You don't regret it, do you?"

"Regret what?" Remus muttered. There was that goddamn blushing again…

"You _know_ what. Last night. What we did."

"What about it?"

"Just…you don't feel like I was…I dunno, taking advantage of you or anything?"

"You were _drunk_, Sirius. It doesn't have to mean anything," said Remus resignedly.

Sirius's mug shattered on the floor and all the air went out of Remus's lungs as Sirius crushed his mouth fiercely against the other man's. "Don't. _Fucking_. Say that," he ordered darkly.

Remus winced slightly, his heart pounding as Sirius bent his head to rest it on Remus's shoulder. "Sirius," he said lightly, "I cannot help but notice that your mouth does not taste the least bit like alcohol."

Sirius blinked. "It what?"

"I didn't notice last night, but—"

"I brushed my teeth."

"You haven't got a toothbrush."

"Used yours."

"It doesn't taste like toothpaste," snarled Remus, "It tastes like the morning breath of a man who was _entirely sober_ when he fucked me on my bathroom floor last night!"

Sirius took a step back, scratching the back of his of his neck and grinning nervously. "Eh heh heh…well…I…er…not just the floor. I had you on the bed, too. And the couch, on the way to the bedroom…and up against that wall on the way to the bed…"

"SIRIUS!"

The grin disappeared, his eyes narrowing. "All right, sorry! Just…when I come here like that…you don't shout at me and you don't ask questions. You just take care of me, no matter how late it is or how tired you are or what I happen to be covered in—"

"How did you manage to get covered in sick if you weren't even drunk?"

"They sell some weird stuff at muggle apothecaries."

"Ah."

"—and I just thought if you thought I was sloshed enough I could just play it off when you shot me down. But—"

"But?"

"But," he repeated, smoothing his fingers gently through his friend's hair, "on the off chance you were stupid enough to want me too, I wouldn't dare waste our first time together by being _drunk_, Remus."

Remus chewed his lip, the thin line of a frown creasing his forehead. "_First_ time?"

"I don't know what you wanted out of it, but that…I…what I mean is, _you_ could never be a one-night thing for me."

"And what is that meant to mean?" snapped Remus. It was too much to hope that this was going where it seemed to be.

Sirius cocked his head impatiently. "I love you, stupid. Always have."

Remus silently reminded himself that he was a grown man who did not need to go red every eleven seconds. "You know, if you'd asked me before this, I don't think there'd have been anything I'd be willing to wait over a decade to hear someone say," he said, pressing his face into Sirius's chest, "but I suppose some things are worth the wait."

"Mm. Missed out on some excellent chances to make James and Peter really uncomfortable, though."

"We've got time. We can go and see them now if you like."

"Nah."

"No?"

"Don't get me wrong," said Sirius quickly, "I want to tell them. I want to tell _everyone_. I just…" Remus flushed again as Sirius pressed a light, wet kiss to his neck, "…don't feel like sharing you today."

"You realize this changes everything," said Remus with a sigh as Sirius helped him to his feet, on which he was still slightly unsteady from the night before, more or less carrying him out through the hall. "We're never going to be friends again after this."

Sirius turned, smirking with his hand resting on the bedroom door. "Really, Moony, what_ever_ gave you the idea that we were just friends?"

* * *

_(a further a/n: What?! Stop looking at me like that! I'm not allowed to write fluff?_

_WELL I DID AND YOU CAN'T STOPME SO THERE._

_Now make with the reviewing before I have to go out and get as drunk as Sirius is pretending to be. Only slightly worse.)_


End file.
